


Initials

by KitHourglass



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 02:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17674787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitHourglass/pseuds/KitHourglass
Summary: While teaching human Cas to hunt, the Winchesters stumble upon a werewolf case. Castiel, who botched the last hunt is eager to take the case and prove himself to Sam.





	Initials

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sastiel Creations Challenge Round 6 on Tumblr. The theme for this mouth was One More and my prompt was weapon.

"Hey, how about this one, Sam? It's on the way back," Dean asked, squinting at the laptop screen like it hurt his eyes. That may well have been true, as Dean had been surfing the internet since they crashed at this motel heading home from a hunt in Oregon. They probably could have gotten to the bunker that day, but they were all exusthed from the hunt. It had seemed like a simple salt and burn, only Castiel's second as a human, meant to help him learn how to hunt. However, it had turned out to be more complicated then any of them had thought, there had been two ghosts instead of one, and after they had torched the bones of the first, they hadn't been expecting the second that had appeared as Dean and Castiel had done a final sweep of the house. 

Dean had gotten tossed across the house hard enough to bruise his ribs, and bang up his shoulder pretty badly. Castiel still blamed himself, he hadn't manged to shoot the ghost until after Dean had been hurt. Sam and Dean kept telling him it wasn't his fault. "I probably wouldn't have been able to shoot the ghost before Dean got tossed through a wall too, Cas," Sam had said, putting a comforting hand on Castiel's shoulder, the causal touches no longer strange between them. 

Castiel knew that wasn't true, Sam had amazing reflexes, and could have prevented Dean from being injured. But he had been finishing reburying the grave, and it had fallen to Castiel. Luckily for Dean and Castiel he was, because as soon as the ghost had appeared, they had called Sam so he could dig up the second grave, that of the first ghost's wife and burn her bones before they were killed. They were still both bruised from being thrown around the house, and Sam had insisted they stop at a motel instead of trying to drive all the way to Lebanon that day.

Dean seemed almost completely recovered already, though he sometimes made little sounds of discomfort when he shifted his shoulder wrong. And here he was already looking for another hunt. 

Castiel didn't move from where he was reading one of Sam's books and icing his knee, as he hadn't been the one addressed. Sam slipped out of the motel's tiny kitchen where he had been making tea for Cas, and leaned over his brother's shoulder. 

The former angel watched as Sam bent over Dean's laptop, furrowing his brow and squinting slightly as he scanned the article. "Dean," Sam said slowly, frowning a little at his brother before turning back to the computer screen, "I don't know about this, it looks like it might be a werewolf, and Cas hasn't dealt with one of those as a human before. Plus, you're both still banged up. Shouldn't we send someone else after it and let you two rest up?" 

The reminder of his newfound weakness made Castiel turn the page of his book a little too harshly and it tore and wrinkled. He smoothed it out as best he could, internally berating himself for damaging one of Sam's books. 

Dean glanced over at Castiel and raised an eyebrow. "What do you think, Cas? Werewolf case in Colorado?" He looked excited, and clearly was eager to take the case. He had been so happy to have simple cases that didn't involve the end of the world, and had thrown himself wholeheartedly into Castiel's hunter training. Castiel didn't think he was too injured to take the hunt, and part of him hoped he could make up for the last one, do better. Not be such a burden to them. 

"I would be willing to do it," Castiel said evenly. "My injures aren't terribly inhibiting." 

Sam chewed on his lip, causing Castiel's eyes to flick down to it as the younger Winchester looked between Dean and Castiel. "Cas," he hedged, "This would be your first werewolf case as a human, and even if you're not hurt too badly you're still going to be sore and tired. Are you sure you're ready for this one?" 

Castiel fought down his irritation, hating that Sam thought he was incompetent. As an angel he had been useful to the Winchesters and now he was a barely functioning human who was unsure about how to cook pasta, let alone solve monster cases and provide adequate back up. But he had to do this, learn how to be a hunter, and prove himself to Sam. "I have to start somewhere," he said, instead of voicing all that, and Sam sighed while Dean grinned triumphantly. 

"See, Sam! Nothing to worry about!" Dean crowed and Sam frowned again.

"Fine, but we're heading out tomorrow, and you're both going to bed early," Sam said firmly. Dean opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by a sharp glare from his brother. Castiel merely returned to his book, reading about love and wishing life could be more like a book. 

 

"Wakey, wakey, I've got breakfast!" Dean's cheerful voice cut through the comfortable fog of sleep, and Castiel blinked several times, glancing at the clock, which only read half past seven. He turned his glare on Dean, because what happened to getting lots of rest? 

Dean rolled his eyes at Castiel, tossing a bag of something that smelled greasy on the tiny hotel table, and strode over to thrust a cup of coffee alarmingly close to Cas' nose. He took it, to avoid getting burned, and sat up, grumbling. "I thought we were supposed to be resting," he croaked, his rough voice even more growly with sleep. 

"We rested plenty! You were asleep by nine, dude," Dean told him, and Castiel vaguely recalled his eyes slipping closed while reading, laying on the bed next to Sam while he typed on his laptop, and Dean watched tv on the other bed. "And I don't know when I fell asleep, but it must not have been too long after you did because I don't remember Sam nagging me about going to bed."

"You needed to sleep, and I don't nag," Sam said as he sat up on the other side of the bed, leaning over Castiel to looking at the clock. As he did so, his chest pressed into Cas' back, Sam's body easily fitting around his own, and Castiel fought down a shiver, trying not to betray how much he enjoyed the feeling of Sam pressed up against him. From Dean's raised eyebrows, he didn't think he succeeded. 

Sam's eyes brightened as he saw the coffee cup in Castiel's hand, "Please tell me you got me coffee too, Dean." Dean held up a second coffee, and Sam reached over Castiel to take it, before sitting up on the edge of the bed, no longer touching Cas. 

He tried not to let his disappointment show on his face, instead sitting up himself and taking a sip of his own coffee. It was black and strong, the just way he liked it. Cas gulped down a few scalding mouthfuls, hoping the caffeine would help to clear his head. He stumbled a bit as he got up, stiff and achy from being thrown around the day before. 

"You okay, Cas?" Sam asked, concern in his eyes as he stood too, looking like he was about to rush to Castiel's side. "You sure you still want to go on the hunt?" 

Castiel sighed in frustration, why was Sam always assuming he wasn't up for a hunt? Did Sam think he was weak? "I'm fine, Sam. I'm perfectly able to hunt," he snapped, harsher than he meant to, and a look of hurt flashed across Sam's face. Castiel wanted to apologize, he never wanted to be the cause of Sam's pain.

Dean beat him to speaking though, clapping him a little too hard on the shoulder. "He's peachy. Sammy, c'mon, eat your breakfast and get dressed, we have a hunt to get to." 

Sam sighed, not looking at Castiel again as he trudged over to the table to eat. 

 

All the victims had gone missing on a trail along next to a wide river. One of the bodies had been found in the woods next to the river, heart missing and claw marks as though from an animal. "Could be the lone survivor of a pack," Sam commented as they drove. "Most werewolves are able to pass as humans and not make the mistake of leaving a dead body around, but if this one is young and alone it might have gotten careless. Could be some old buildings in the wood, it's pretty big. If it's staying there, the river trail is as good a place as any to find food, looks like before people started going missing, joggers went there at all times, even late at night and early morning." 

"Prime hunting times," Dean noted. "Has to be a pureblood too, since last time I checked the moon won't be full for a couple weeks." 

"Right," Sam agreed. "We had better get it now too, sooner or later it's going to move on, when the attention becomes too much." 

Castiel leaned forward, trying to remember as much relevant information as he could. Before, he didn't have to worry about solving small things like this, Sam and Dean didn't usually call for his help for small cases, so he hadn't had to worry about the minute facts and details of their job. His human brain hardly remembered what facts about werewolves he had known before. What was the point, after all, he could smite them easily enough. Castiel had thought he sort of understood what it was like to be human in the days leading up to the apocalypse, when his grace was waning. But he had not been prepared for total humanity. 

He decided to get straight to the point. "What is your plan?"

Sam, despite Cas' sharp words earlier, answered, "Our plan. You're part of this too, Cas. And you're doing great. Amazing, really." He looked down, playing with the edge of his shirt nervously. "I wasn't trying to insinuate you weren't, earlier." 

Castiel swallowed hard, putting his hand on Sam's slightly turned shoulder. "I- thank you. I apologize for snapping at you. I was just rather tired." 

Sam smiled at him, happy and bright again, and Castiel immediately felt the return of the fluttering in his stomach he sometimes got around Sam. He wasn't quite sure when they had started, these... feelings. It was before he was human, had began several years ago, but back then he couldn't quite pinpoint his emotions. It was only during the long days of purgatory that he had realized what they were. He had fought them down then, knowing that after everything Castiel had done to Sam, Sam could never return his affection. He had manged to hide how he felt from Sam, but Castiel was beginning to think that Dean had realized. He dreaded to think what the result of that would be. 

"Okay, guys, moving on from your romance and back to the case, Cas is right, we need some sort of plan. I'm thinking we look through the woods after dinner since that's our first guess. If it doesn't pan out we can reconvene and figure out what to do tomorrow. Sound good?" 

Sam glanced at Castiel again, as though for confirmation. At least Sam seemed to care about his opinion, even if he was still doubtful about Cas' hunting skills. Castiel nodded. "It seems an appropriate first step." 

"Sounds good," Sam agreed. 

"Awesome!" Dean said. "But first, I want a burger." 

 

After Sam had endured watching Dean scarf down not one, but two burgers as well as a large side of curly fries, they headed to the woods to search. Their guns were filled with silver bullets, and they were all carrying at least one silver knife. Dean had at least three. He swept his gaze over the woods, calculating. "Probably won't find it tonight, but we can look around, we might even stop the bastard from trying to hunt down some poor jogger." He glanced around once more, and nodded. "You two go east, I'll go west. Meet back here in an hour, and call if you find anything?" 

Sam nodded, darting and look back at Cas to make sure that was alright with him, and then they set off into the woods. It was fairly uneventful at first. All they were doing was looking around for clues, and both Sam and Cas knew that there wasn't much likelihood that there would be any to find. Cas seemed tense, jumping slightly under Sam's hands whenever he touched his arm or back to guide the other man in the right direction. Sam figured it was probably the hunting anxiety. After all, Cas' last hunt hadn't gone so well, and he was still so new to everything about being human. It was hard enough trying to be human without throwing in hunting, and Sam could imagine for someone who used to be about to kill with a thought that he felt pretty nervous about using different, human methods for destroying things. 

After an hour of tramping through the woods, and still nothing to be found, Sam sighed, glancing at his watch. "We'd better head back, see if Dean's had any luck. Look's like we've got nada." 

When Cas didn't respond, Sam stepped closer to him, touching his arm lightly. "Cas?" 

"Look there," Cas said, without any explanation, lifting his hand to gesture at a small hill, pretty much identical to all the other hills they had already climbed over and around.

Sam looked where Cas was pointing, but he still couldn't figure out what Cas was indicating. "I don't see anything." 

The former angel let out a frustrated noise before gripping Sam tightly by his forearms and firmly tugging him until he was standing in the exact spot Cas had been a moment before. "There," Cas hissed sharply, close in Sam's ear, and he finally saw it. There was a small building, maybe a house or storage shed built into the side of the hill. The the same mix of trees and brush that filled the rest of the woods surrounded it, camouflaging it well enough Sam probably wouldn't have seen it on his own. From most angles, the brush hid it, but from the place Cas had directed him to, he could just make out the brick walls of the building.

"That would be a good place to hide out," Sam noted, glancing over at Cas. "Good catch." 

Cas smiled at him, looking so damn pleased with himself that Sam had to fight not to hug him. 

"Should we go in?" Cas asked, slowly. 

Sam weighed the options. "I better let Dean know first." He pulled his phone out of his pocket, sending off a quick message to his brother, letting him know what they had found, and where they were. "Alright, Cas, lead the way." 

Cas walked down the hill, stopping at the door of the building. Sam slipped behind the door, raising his gun and nodding for Cas to open it. He did, slipping into the house, and Sam followed close on his heels. It was dark, and smelled damp and slightly rotten. Sam pulled out his flashlight, shining it through the darkened hallway. There was a couple of doorways, and Sam motioned Cas through one, and took the other. Despite how old and long abandoned it clearly was, there was definite signs of someone squatting. Sam spied an electric lantern, sleeping bag, and a backpack. There was no sign of any food, or any wrappers, but there was a couple of empty plastic bottles. Werewolf wasn't confirmed yet, but the signs were pointing towards one.

Sam stepped through the doorway to the next room, and he had about half a second to notice it's was an old kitchen before something blunt hit him on the back of the head, and he hits his knees, vision going splotchy as he cried out, "Cas!" 

 

Castiel's head whipped around, and he sprinted for the source of Sam's cry. Perhaps he should have used more cation, but all he could think about was Sam's pained voice. He burst into the room with his gun raised. He wasn't going to fail Sam now, this time he was going to get a shot in. 

The werewolf had other ideas. As Cas came through the doorway, it leaped at him. Castiel fired, but the wolf was on him, causing his shot to go wide, through the wall. The wolf was a young man, perhaps early twenties, and he was strong, grasping Castiel's wrists hard. Before he could think to reach for the silver blade strapped to his thigh, the wolf twisted his arm behind his back. He held him there, as Castiel fought not to scream in pain. 

"Don't try it, human," the werewolf hissed into Castiel ear, gripping him tighter. Castiel found himself unable to move, useless and in pain, unable to save himself, let alone Sam. "I don't know what you two were doing stumbling around the woods or how you found this place, but it saves me the trouble of having to go hunting tonight," he growled. 

Castiel's unrestrained hand creped down his thigh, fumbling with the knife. His fingers wrapped around the handle, and he stabbed back wildly. The wolf let out a sound that was almost a yelp as the silver dug into his leg, but before Castiel could make any further attempt, his arm was twisted further then it was supposed to go. He felt a blinding pain as his shoulder popped out of its socket, and this time Castiel couldn't stop the scream that tore out of his throat. 

The werewolf threw him hard into the wall and Castiel screamed again as the slam into it further disturbed his shoulder. "Fuck," Castiel gasped, the human curse strange on his tongue but feeling oddly appropriate for the situation. He chanced a glance at Sam, even while clutching his shoulder in pain. His friend was still upon the floor, and there was a trickle of blood on his hairline. 

The werewolf grunted, throwing the silver blade to the ground, far away from where Castiel was crouching. "Hunter," he growled. "Why can't you just leave me alone! It wasn't enough that your hateful kind killed my pack, you have to come after me too." He seemed to be forgetting about anything but Castiel in his anger. If Castiel could delay him long enough for Dean to find them... 

"You're killing people," Castiel bit out through the pain. His arm hurt so badly he could barely think about anything else, but he had to. Maybe, if he angered the wolf enough, he could hurt him. But Castiel didn't have any more weapons. Both his and Sam's guns were across the room, along with his knife, and Castiel didn't doubt that Sam's knife had been tossed also. He just needed one more weapon, something else. 

The werewolf snorted. "That's rich, coming from a hunter. You live on killing. We weren't hurting anyone that mattered. We took people no one would miss, and then your kind came and killed my whole pack. I'm alone. I don't have anyone." His voice was almost a whine. 

"There's other ways," Castiel argued. It didn't matter, he knew nothing he said would get through to the wolf, but if he could keep him distracted from Sam long enough for Dean to get there, Sam might survive. Even if the werewolf killed Castiel. "We've met wolves who were able to live on animal hearts. You don't have to kill people." As he spoke, Castiel searched frantically through his mind, trying to think of something, anything, he could use against the monster. 

"You're **human**," the werewolf growled. "You know nothing about what it's really like trying to live like that." 

The word human was strangely jarring to Castiel's ears. Human. He was human now. Castiel still didn't have much in the way of possessions. As an angel, he had no reason to. One of his only possessions, and perhaps his dearest, was a gift from Sam. A pocket knife, plain and simple. Sam had craved protective sigils on one side, and on the other the initials C. W. The blade was coated in silver, but it wouldn't do much damaged against the werewolf, perhaps burn for a second. But a second was all he needed. 

The wolf was advancing on him and quickly Castiel slid his left hand into his boot, fingers wrapping around smooth wood and metal. The pads of his fingers caught on the W, and it gave him the strength he needed. He slid the knife up his left sleeve, while his hand was still in his boot, and as he pulled it slowly out he glared up at the wolf. "Bite me," Castiel said, hoping this particular phrase of Dean's would give him luck. 

The werewolf seized him by the front of the shirt, dragging Castiel up, jarring his hurt arm badly again, and he hissed in pain. "Like I would turn a hunter. No, I'm going to rip you to shreds." As he spoke, the wolf's claws sunk into Castiel's chest where he was holding him.

Castiel flicked the blade out, tearing his sleeve as he did so, and with speed that surprised both of them, stabbed it into the werewolf's neck. The wolf gasped at the brief pain, but it was enough for Castiel to shove away, diving for the other end of the room where the guns lay. The wolf spun around, cursing, just as Cas' fingers wrapped around the gun. He rolled, pointed, and shot the creature dead in the heart, then again for good measure. 

As soon as the creature dropped, the gun fell out of Castiel's hand, and he snatched up his knife as he hurried over to Sam, turning him and pulling Sam's head into his lap. "Sam? Sam, please wake up." Castiel felt around Sam's head with his good hand. There was a small bump, but nothing more. The small trickle of blood he had noticed earlier had stopped, and he petted through Sam's slightly matted hair. "Sam," he said again, hoarsely. Sam looked fine, but why wasn't he waking up? 

Sam's eyes fluttered open slowly. "Cas? Wha…?" Sam around, eyes landing on the body of the werewolf. "Oh," he realized slowly. "You killed it." 

"Yes, with some difficulty," Castiel admitted. "Are you alright? You were unconscious for a while." He let his fingers brush over Sam's hair again and then pulled back self consciously. "Sorry." 

Sam sat up, still mostly in Castiel's lap. "No, no it's fine." His eyes caught on Castiel shoulder. "Cas!" He placed hands gently on it. "Your shoulder. Do you want me to-?" 

Castiel nodded, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut. "Please." Sam grimaced, and Castiel screamed in pain as he popped Castiel's shoulder back into it's socket. He sagged forward into Sam's chest, tears pricking his eyes. 

"Hey," Sam murmured softly, tilting Castiel's head up, and wiping the corners of his eyes with his thumbs. Suddenly, he was looking right into Sam's eyes, their mouths level, and before he could help himself, Cas pressed his lips to Sam's. Such a stupid, stupid thing to do, but he couldn't help it. 

Castiel pulled back before Sam could move at all and he shifted away. "I'm sorry. I was- overcome with emotion. Almost losing you again-" 

"Hey," Sam caught his shoulders, pulling Castiel back into his space. "You didn't lose me, you saved me." His eyes dropped down to Castiel's mouth, and he licked his lips. "And for the record, I've been wishing you would do that for a long, long time."

"Oh," was all Cas could say, he was so startled. "Really?" And then, "Oh! Ohhhhh," against Sam's mouth as he kissed him, deeper than the first, but still gentle, parting his lips easily to kiss him deeper than before. 

When they finally pulled away, breathlessly, Castiel's good hand wrapped around Sam's neck and Sam's arms around his waist, he murmured, "You saved me, Sam Winchester." 

Sam furrowed his brow, opening his mouth to ask, but Castiel placed the pocket knife, still bloody from the wolf into his palm. "Your gift, lucky I had it, or I don't think I would have been able to distract him long enough to get to the guns. You saved me, and this is hardly the first time." 

Sam blushed. "I guess we'll call it even then?" He held Cas closer, and smoothed his hand up Castiel's chest, tracing over the slightly bleeding claw marks. "Let's get you back and cleaned up." 

"As long as it involves more of this," Castiel replied, kissing Sam again.

**Author's Note:**

> I've honestly read this so many times I don't know how I feel about it. Please tell me how you feel about it!


End file.
